Chapter Six

Christopher leaned his forehead against the glass, watching the bright red truck leave the driveway, a plume of white exhaust billowing up behind it.

He got down and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. He pulled Lightning onto his lap, and the cat kneaded Christopher’s pants with her feet, turned around and then settled down, her soft purrs vibrating against Christopher’s stomach.

Their dad was back. And he thought Christopher was strong. That made him smile a bit.

Emily sat on the other end of Christopher’s bed, her arms crossed over her chest, looking at Sam, who slouched on the floor facing Christopher, his wrists resting on his bent knees, his fingers tapping his shin. Sam spoke first. “I can’t believe he just showed up without letting us know. Without saying anything. How does he think that works?”

“I just don’t get why you’re so mad, Sam.” Emily sat up and pushed her long hair behind her ears. “You’re the one who went running all over the country trying to find him.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I’m mad. Because maybe I learned that he wasn’t going to come looking for us. And now he did—when it’s convenient for him.”

“Hey, Christopher, how are you doing?” Emily asked.

Christopher hugged his legs just a bit harder. Sam and Emily kept asking him how he felt about their dad coming back, and he couldn’t say anything. A bunch of months ago, he thought his dad had left their family because of him. Because he cried so much. But his friend Dylan told him that all babies cry, so that meant his dad must have left because of something else.

He also had thought that when their dad came, he would only want Emily and Sam. But he’d told Christopher he was strong. That he could probably use Christopher’s help. That had made Christopher feel special. But he didn’t want to tell Emily and Sam that, because they seemed to be mad at their dad.

“Is he gone yet?” Emily asked.

Christopher nodded, stroking Lightning.

Sam sighed and pushed his hands through his hair like he did when he was frustrated. “Why did he have to come now? There are too many things going on. Why couldn’t he come when it worked better for me?”

“Like when?” Emily sounded snappy again.

“Like when I’m ready to graduate? Move out?”

“So you would stay with Dad if he asked you to?”

Sam shrugged like he wasn’t sure, and Christopher felt a slow pain starting to build in his stomach. Would Sam leave him? And if Sam left, would Emily follow him? Would they both leave him here alone on the farm?

But he didn’t want to leave the farm.

He pulled Lightning up and held her tight. He had her and Toby to take care of, calves to feed, and all kinds of other things to do on the farm. And he’d promised Uncle Pete he would help him plan his new house. He couldn’t leave now even if his dad did need his help.

Now his stomach really hurt. He closed his eyes and started praying in his head like Grandma had taught him to.

Dear Jesus, I know you hear me because Grandma says you do even if I don’t talk out loud or just whisper. I don’t want to leave Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Pete and Toby and the cats. I want to stay here and take care of the animals. But now my dad is here, and he’s really nice. And I don’t know what to do.

He felt like he was going to cry. He swallowed down some tears. He was going to be strong. Like his dad said he could be. And he was going to believe that Jesus would hear his prayer.

Emily and Sam talked for a while longer about their dad and then left. Christopher stayed in his room. He didn’t want to go downstairs, and he didn’t want to play outside.

Then he thought of the idea he had talked about with Uncle Pete this morning, when they were working on the snowmobile. About helping Uncle Pete design his house.

He pushed himself up and dug through his desk. He found some papers, some pencils, and his ruler. And then he started working because it was easier to plan Uncle Pete’s house than to think about what would happen now that their dad was back.

He worked hard at his project, drawing houses, making plans, until he heard a truck coming up the driveway again. It was Uncle Pete coming back with Jennifer and Madison.

“Who’s coming with me to cut down the Christmas tree?” he heard Uncle Pete yell into the house.

Christopher ran down the stairs. “I’m going to help you.”

“Sam, Emily? Are you guys coming too?” Pete yelled even louder.

Grandma shushed him, putting a finger to her lips, and then pointed into the family room. Grandpa was fast asleep on the recliner.

Christopher was putting on his coat when Sam and Emily came down the stairs.

“Grandma, are you coming too?” Christopher asked as he sat on the bench and tugged his boots on.

“Of course she’s coming,” Uncle Pete said, grabbing Grandma’s barn coat off the coat hook. “We’re doing this together.” He kicked off his boots, walked into the house, and stopped by Grandpa’s recliner. He gave Grandpa a small shake. “Dad, wake up. We’re getting the Christmas tree.”

Christopher could hear Grandpa grumbling, but it sounded like he was coming along too.

“Sam, Emily, let’s get those clothes on.” Uncle Pete pulled on his gloves and yanked his hat over his ears. “C’mon. Let’s get going. Mom, everybody, we have an important mission to accomplish.”

Uncle Pete seemed to be the most excited about getting a Christmas tree, Christopher thought.

“And tomorrow we’re visiting my new little brother,” Jennifer said as Christopher helped her put on her mittens. “I got a present for her from Auntie Hannah. He’s going to really like it. It’s a pretty sweater that she made herself.”

“And Grandma’s making a really nice quilt for him,” Madison added.

“Is everybody ready? I’m getting the ax.” Uncle Pete left, and everyone followed him. “Come on, people; let’s get a move on.”

And then they were walking, all together, Grandpa telling them where they had to go to get the tree. Uncle Pete followed them with the snowmobile, still pulling the inner tube. He said they could tie the tree to the tube to bring it home.

Toby joined them, tail wagging.

“Toby looks like she’s smiling,” Jennifer said.

“And she should. She’s got a great life,” Uncle Pete said. “I think I’d like to be a dog too sometimes.”

“I’d like to be a cat. They sleep a lot,” Sam said with a laugh.

And soon they were talking about pets and cats and animals and remembering funny stories about Toby, and Christopher thought it seemed like the visit from his father hadn’t even happened.

He wondered what his dad was doing this afternoon. Wondered if he was getting a Christmas tree. Wondered if he was going to get any presents.

And he felt a bit sorry for his dad.

“BEST TREE EVER,” Emily said, standing back from the Christmas tree. Red, blue, yellow, and green lights twinkled in the branches, and brightly colored ornaments hung all over it, from top to bottom.

Christopher looked up from the popcorn he was stringing. Madison and Jennifer were supposed to help, but they had gotten tired of it so he was on his own. He didn’t mind. It was his idea, after all.

The tree did look good, and once they got the popcorn string on, it would look even better.

“Just needs one last thing,” Uncle Pete said, pulling the Christmas angel out of an old, dented box. He climbed up on a chair to put the angel on top of the tree. “Is she straight?” he asked.

“A little to the left,” Sam said, looking up from his book.

Pete moved it.

“Actually, a bit more to the right,” Sam said.

Christopher caught Sam winking at him as Uncle Pete followed Sam’s instructions. His brother was teasing Uncle Pete, but Christopher didn’t say anything. Uncle Pete could tease them all pretty good, so it didn’t hurt if he got teased back.

“One last thing to do before Grandpa and I have to leave,” Grandma said, setting one last box in the living room. “The Christmas stockings.”

“Can I hang them up?” Christopher asked, pushing the half-empty bowl of popcorn away. He could finish that later.

“Of course you can.” Grandma gave him a big smile.

He pulled the first patchwork stocking out of the box. His name was embroidered on the cuff. “I think these are really neat,” he said, holding it up, looking for the red-gingham square Grandma had told him was cut from a dress his mom wore on her first birthday.

“Can you tell us some more stories about the stockings?” Christopher brought his over to Grandma, whose smile got kind of soft and mushy when she took it from him. She must be remembering his mother, he thought, wishing he had more memories of her.

All he could remember was the smell of her perfume, how she would dance around the room with him when her favorite song played on the radio, and the way she would rub the top of his head whenever she tucked him in at night.

“I remember this dress,” Grandma said, touching a yellow patch with tiny green leaves. “I bought the material at your Aunt Rosemary’s shop, Fabrics and Fun. I couldn’t afford much so I got her to cut a little less than the pattern called for. It was supposed to have long sleeves, but I ran out of material, so it ended up being a short-sleeved dress. Your mother looked so cute in it.”

Christopher pointed to an orange patch. “What about this one?”

“That was a shirt that I bought for your mom when she was about seven. She saw it in a store and insisted on having it. Grandpa finally bought it for her. She wore it all the time until she ripped the sleeve out.”

“Did she ever tell you how she ripped it?” Pete asked, stepping off the chair.

Grandma shook her head, and Christopher guessed a funny story about his mom was coming.

“I saw her riding one of the horses. The old one that Dad kept around for ages and ages. Think his name was Roany. But little as she was, she got a halter on that horse, brought it over to the fence, and then climbed on.”

“She would have been the size of Madison. How did she get a halter on a horse?” Emily asked.

“Roany was so quiet, he would put his head down whenever Denise wanted to put the halter on.”

“How did she get on Roany?” Sam asked.

“She’d just lead him to a fence, then climb up on the fence, and get on the horse from there.”

“So how did she rip her shirt?” Christopher asked, trying to imagine Madison riding a horse by herself, much less putting a halter on it.

“Roany wouldn’t go as fast as she wanted.” Uncle Pete grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl and sat down on the couch. “So Denise was kicking and kicking Roany in the side with her little rubber boots, trying to get him to go over to the bushes so she could pull a branch off to hit him with. She finally got him to the willow bushes. She got hold of that branch in one hand and all of a sudden, Roany started walking away. But Denise wouldn’t let go of the branch and wouldn’t let go of the halter rope. Roany kept going, and Denise was slowly slipping sideways off the horse. Finally she fell and ripped her shirt. She was so mad at Roany. I can still see her stamping her feet in her rubber boots, yelling at him.”

“What did Roany do?” Christopher asked.

“He just stopped, looked over at her, and then walked back to the corral where the other horses were.” Pete laughed. “Denise finally pulled a branch off and chased Roany, trying to hit him with it. But it was so little, it didn’t make any difference. She could be so stubborn.” Pete popped some popcorn in his mouth, shaking his head.

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Sam said, looking over at Emily.

“You should know,” Emily said, making a face at him. She got up. “I think we need some gingerbread men. We didn’t have dessert after supper. Can I put some out, Grandma?”

Grandma nodded and looked at her watch. Christopher knew that meant she was getting ready to go.

She and Grandpa were going to see their dad.

“And hot chocolate?” Jennifer asked, jumping up from the game she and Madison were playing, knocking over the bowl of popcorn. Christopher sighed. It was going to take him a long time to clean that all up.

“But we’re not finished,” Madison complained.

Christopher looked down at his stocking, imagining his mother as a little girl, sitting on top of a horse, kicking him with her rubber boots. In the story his mom was smaller than he was now.

He wished he knew how to ride a horse, he thought as he hung up the stocking. Then he gathered up the popcorn so he could start stringing it again.

Grandma and Grandpa came back to the living room. They were wearing their coats, and Grandma was pulling on her gloves. “We’re leaving now. Madison and Jennifer, make sure you have a bath tonight. Emily, can you help them with their hair after their bath? Just braid it and roll up the ends in a couple of sponge rollers.” Grandma gave a few more directions, even though everyone knew exactly what they had to do.

Grandpa just stood behind her, rocking back and forth, like he was nervous.

Christopher felt the ache coming back into his stomach. He knew they were on their way to see his dad, wherever he was staying. He wondered what they were going to talk about.

They said good-bye and left. Christopher headed upstairs to call it a night. Maybe things would make more sense in the morning.